


we're not free (2015)

by Laura JV (jacquez)



Series: every choice you make creates a universe [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:49:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquez/pseuds/Laura%20JV
Summary: John is a black box. So is she.In two days, everything goes to hell, but for just this instant they have each other.





	we're not free (2015)

Mary touched John’s back as he did the washing up, and he smiled at her, but it was a brittle smile, thin. Some nights he was like this, wrestling with himself.

“You haven’t forgiven me,” she said. “For shooting him.”

“You should have trusted me,” John said, quietly. “You didn’t want me to stop loving you, but you — you should have guessed, Mary, that I’m perfectly capable of loving completely awful people. And you’re not even completely awful.” His smile softened, and he looked more like himself, now, less like he might shatter.

“I know,” she said. “And I know that — no matter how much you love me, and no matter how much you try, you won’t ever quite be able to let go that I almost killed Sherlock.” She rested her chin on his shoulder, feeling the muscles move as he scrubbed a pot. 

“He’s much more able to forgive people for — terrible things — than I am,” John said. He shook his head, laughed. “And he’s in love with you, you know.”

“No!” Surely not. “He’s in love with you, John, he has been for ages.”

“How do you think I know what it looks like, on him?” John asked, setting the pot in the drainer and turning towards her. John was a black box, most of the time; the near-constant simmer of his anger obscuring all his inner workings, but right now he wasn't angry, just tired and wry and beginning to lean towards her. Aroused. 

“Well, if we’re going to ask him to a threesome, John, I’ve got to spend more time at the gym, get rid of the baby flab. Give me six weeks.” 

“We are not having a threesome with Sherlock,” he said, but he was laughing, and he slid his wet hands over her hips and kissed her. 

“I don’t really trust anyone, you know,” she said, later, to his collarbone. Rosie, for once, had stayed asleep long enough for sex. “There’s always a part of me that would rather—well. Nevermind. I’ll sort myself out, eventually.” 

He ran his hand down her back, the gun calluses on his palm rough on her skin. “We all have our demons,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> References to this scene ended up in drafts of two separate other stories, so I wrote it.


End file.
